


Days of the week

by Ninjateddies



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, days of the week as people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:39:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninjateddies/pseuds/Ninjateddies
Summary: I saw a writing prompt that said 'describe the days of the week as people' and got inspired.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Needed a break from 'Caffeine High'. Just a fun little story I thought of.

Monday was a real drag. Monday never smiled, never engaged with anyone past asking whether or not it was time to go home. Monday always wore sweatpants and a baggy sweater or hoodie of some sort; an endless supply of comfortable clothes that she wore them no matter where she went. Monday could be found more often than not talking about how she hates life, how she wants to go home, how she wants to drown her sorrows in a litre of caffeine and alcohol. She was never seen anywhere without her trusty extra-large shitty coffee from whatever store was closest; probably a cure for the “endless boredom of life” or whatever she wanted to call it. But Monday was also a good person, always willing to help someone out, no matter how hard she tried to hide the fact that she cared about someone. Monday didn't like to admit that she cared about anything; she was like to emo kid that never grew out of that phase in high school. She hung out alone, never really associating herself with the other people around her.

Tuesday wasn’t much better. Tuesday at least wore better clothes and made an effort to make himself presentable, but it was never quite enough to hide the sleep-ruffled hair or the bags under his eyes or the obvious way he wished it was the weekend still. Tuesday wakes up and automatically rolls over; ignoring his alarm until he’s nearly late for wake. Tuesday had a large coffee every other day from his favourite little corner shop, but when it closed down, he just found another one. Tuesday was willing to change if he had to, but was otherwise stuck in his ways. He smiled often and freely, and was known as the guy that made Monday a little bit more bearable. Tuesday was normally seen with Wednesday, but was widely regarded as Monday’s little brother.

Wednesday was unremarkable. He was a bump in the road of your day, a little blip on your radar that’s large enough to notice, but not large enough to care about. Wednesday was a placeholder; the guy who waits in line at the movies while you go get the snacks, the guy that saves your seat at the bar when you go to the bathroom. Wednesday was more popular than Monday or Tuesday though. People sometimes saw Wednesday as the beginning of something new; a herald of change, the thought that maybe their day would improve from then on. He had this way of speaking that somehow would convince you of everything he said, but you would promptly forget five minutes after talking to him. Everyone saw him everyday, yet if they were asked where, when, and why, no one would be able to answer. Wednesday didn’t drink coffee; he said that it didn’t affect him like it did other people because he had already drunk too much over his life-time. Wednesday was always smart casual, never seen anywhere without a button down shirt or polished Oxfords. Wednesday was normally seen around Tuesday, but everyone knew it was Wednesday who ran that show.

Thursday was a bit of a slut to be honest. He was always desperate for attention, but was always overshadowed by Friday, his older sister. Thursday went out of his way to find trouble, but it never amounted to what Friday would do on her nights off. Thursday would talk to anyone and everyone who would listen about how great he was, about how many people he’d slept with, about how many shots he took last night. Thursday was vain and narcissistic, caring too much about how people thought of him but still thinking that he was the best one in the room at any given time. Thursday actively pursued what he wanted; trying so hard to finally be better than Friday, but never succeeding. He shit-talked the other days, wanting to be known as the best no matter what, but only ever coming off as desperate and needy. People knew that if you saw Thursday, Friday was right around the corner, and so he was normally seen as the precursor to a good time. Thursday was widely known as an overly excitable jealous puppy that would do anything or anyone for attention, but if anyone wronged him or his friends, Thursday knew how to effectively spread a rumour that would ruin their career, if not aspects of their life. . Thursday was too hyped up on sugar or candy for him to need coffee, yet somehow he still managed to drink two cups every day.

Friday was like that drunk aunt that showed up at Christmas. She was the best and worst part about the event, depending on who you asked. Most people thought Friday was the best thing since sliced bread; a fun-loving, energetic person who brought light into your day no matter what. Some people thought Friday was annoying; an over-glorified alcoholic who leeched off the energy of others and still somehow managed to convince people she was great.No one really knew why Friday was so amazing, only that she was. Friday was an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in an outer coating of crazy. She egged people on, always encouraging them to do the stupid shit they would never do if they were sober, but somehow thought they could get away with now that Friday was there. No matter how much Thursday claimed to hate her, she would always look out for him; Friday had a protective streak that ran a mile wide, and family came first no matter what. Friday was just as likely to be seen with a bottle of beer or some other sort of alcohol as Monday is to be seen with coffee.

Now Saturday, Saturday was fucking mental. Saturday showed up to everything ten minutes late, and always brought some kind of hard liquor to any event. If you ever needed to find Saturday, going to the nearest bar or club was your safest bet; god knows he was at one every night partying alone and leaving with strange men and women. Saturday was like the brother you never knew was an alcoholic until it was too late and he was too stuck in his ways to stop drinking. Saturday never spent a night in his own bed; he was worse than Thursday in that regard. But even though Saturday acted this way, if you ever needed someone to talk to about anything, Saturday was the best person for it. Since he’d done nearly everything, he didn’t judge you when you confessed what you had done. He always gave the best advice and was always there to be a shoulder to cry on. If you were friends with Saturday and someone broke your heart, you best believe that Saturday’s going over to their house with a baseball bat and taking it to their car. There’s a good chance that it’s whiskey in that mug he carries around, and you don’t know if you’ve ever seen him in a state that isn’t drunk or hungover.

Sunday was a bit of a mystery. Everyone acted differently around her, and no one had the same opinion about her. Sunday wore pastel coloured dresses and sweaters in grey or white, but she could also rock a mini skirt and six inch heels if you wanted to go out. Sunday was normally up for anything. Midnight trip to McDonald’s? She’s in. Random day trip to the countryside? Sunday’s all about that. Mosh pit at whatever rock concert you guys went to? Sunday’s probably already in there. Sunday could be the sweetest person you’ve ever met, or she could be one of the most fun. Sunday didn’t seek out trouble or parties or a chance to get down and dirty, but she never shied away if the opportunity presented itself. Sunday was normally found looking after Saturday and Monday. She would make sure Saturday hadn’t choked on his own vomit overnight before checking that Monday was actually up and eating something other than coffee. Sunday was everyone’s older sister; a person that would protect you and defend your honour no matter what and would take you to a club afterwards. Sunday was the best and worst part of everyone’s day, because you’d either end up talking for hours about life or just chilling together, or you’d end up drunk as hell in a club watching with devastation as Sunday slipped away from you into the arms of someone else on the dance floor.


End file.
